Papa's Princess
by totalphangirl
Summary: a story about Valjean and his little princess Cosette. Fluff, one-shot, based on the 2012 movie. Ok, have we established the fact that I am obsessed with daddy daughterness and musical theatre? I think we have! Enjoy, thank you very much 4 reading!


'Papa, why do you treat me like this?' Cosette asked. It had been three weeks since Valjean had saved Cosette from the Thernardiers and she was sitting on his lap while he read to her.

'Like what dear?' Valjean stroked her golden hair and she sighed, leaning against him. The two had been getting on well so far; Cosette's bruises were fading and, Valjean hoped, some awful memories were too. She blinked up at him with her big blue eyes.

'Why do you treat me so… so well?' Valjean was a little startled. He hoisted her up so that they were facing each other.

'Because you're Papa's little princess,' he said, smiling. Cosette beamed.

'No I'm _not!' _

'Yes you _are!' _

'Papa, don't be silly, I'm not a princess-'

'You are to me.' The two then shared a look of extreme warmth, of love, as Valjean realized that he loved this little girl more than anything. He patted her back slowly and she leant into the crook of his arm and gradually, gradually, her delicate eyelids began to close. Toussaint, their maid, passed by the doorway and smiled at herself; Valjean had a sleeping Cosette in his arms and was stroking her hair lovingly, lifting her up slowly and cutting across the room to the door.

He lay her down in bed and kissed her cheek gently, so as not to perturb her peaceful slumber. She mumbled a little in her sleep and rolled on her side, facing Valjean. He smiled again, his kind eyes crinkling. 'Goodnight dear Cosette,' he whispered. 'You'll always be my little princess. Always.'

* * *

Cosette sat in the messy garden of Rue Plummet, her head stuck in a large book. Over the past year or so Cosette and Valjean had… drifted apart somewhat. She was a thoughtful intellect who enjoyed time on her own, but she had her head in the clouds so often that she often wouldn't notice if Valjean was there. He came up from behind her and tapped the crown of her head gently, making her jump and then erupt into a peel of giggles. 'What goes on inside that brain of yours, eh?' He sat down next to her and she rested the book by her side. 'You have grown, my child,' he sighed sadly, looking her up and down. How did this womanhood sneak up on him without him even noticing? He'd been with Cosette every day of her life since she was eight years old; he had never seen any womanly curves before. He had not noticed her switch from books like _'Mary had a little lamb' _to _'War And Peace.' _What had happened to that little girl he used to sit on his knee? What had happened to his little princess?

'I was thinking about the garden,' she said dreamily. 'It could look so beautiful with some daises on this side and maybe… tulips perhaps? Oh! And a lovely path might be hiding under all these weeds! You can see it Papa, can't you?' She blinked up at him and he remembered that night again, when he was reading to her and she fell asleep in his arms.

'Cosette do you remember… Little Princess?' Cosette squinted in confusion and shook her head slowly.

'Oh. Never mind.'

* * *

Javert and Valjean sat silently in the carriage together. They were on the way to Rue Plummet. Marius had been handed over to his grandfather. He and Cosette would have a beautiful life together. There was just one more thing Valjean had to do before he was chained up like a slave again.

For most of the journey he had thought of the beautiful life _he _and Cosette had shared together. He remembered her first birthday living with him: _'I don't want to rip the paper, Papa, it's too pretty!' _Valjean smiled to himself and Javert eyed him up and down.

'What?' he said curtly. 'What is it?'

'Nothing.' He would not expect Javert to understand.

'We're here. Now hurry up and report back to me immediately after you've said goodbye; we're wasting time here.' Valjean nodded and obediently stepped out of the carriage. As he walked through the neat little garden surges of nostalgia hit him like punches in the chest. He thought of his daughter planting all the sweet purple and white flowers and watched them bob their heads in the wind.

'Papa!' Cosette shrieked as soon as she saw him. She was wearing her nightgown. She flung her arms around his neck, almost completely unaware of his smell. 'Papa what _happened _to you? Oh, Toussaint and I have been so, so worried. You could have been killed! Oh but you're safe now!' She pulled him into a tight hug, crushing her body up next to his. Valjean's eyes brimmed. A tear cut a mark stodgily down his thickly coated cheek and he kissed the crown of Cosette's head, stroking her hair gently.

'I have to go now,' he whispered. 'I'm sorry Cosette, goodbye.'

'No! Stay here! You can _go _later! Please Papa!'

'You don't understand Cosette,' he took a deep breath. 'I am going now, going forever.' Cosette's eyes widened and she began to shake her head. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

'No!' she said, swaying. _'NO!' _She flung herself at Valjean, gripping his shoulders. _'NO! NO YOU CAN'T LEAVE YOU CAN'T!' _tears streamed down her face. Valjean kissed them away. He kissed her forehead and nose and both cheeks and the top of her head; he peppered her face with kisses but it did not stop either of them crying. She buried her face in his chest, her shoulders jerking, her tears splashing down his front.

'It's ok Cosette,' he whispered, patting her back. He leaned over so that they were facing each other. 'No matter where I am, no matter where _you_ are, you will always be my little princess.'

THE END


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